Graceland Cemetery: The Color

Posted on November 18, 2024 by admin

On Sunday Yuriko was at her occasional cake class creating some figgy pudding. That’s what I’m calling it, since fig is the star ingredient, along with cinnamon and nutmeg and other spices. I’m also calling it oishi, Japanese for delicious, a word we use a fair amount.

There is no Spam in the recipe, however. Just as well.

Class is in the city, and I am chauffeur on such days, driving to the Humboldt Park neighborhood. The benefit for me: I get to spend a few hours in Chicago. This time I used the time to visit Graceland Cemetery on the North Side, accessed by bus and then the CTA Red Line.

More color than I expected. The leaves are a little late in falling this year.

What can it signify? Natural variation in timing? A hint of climate woes? I can’t claim to be smart enough to know, but I do know that my hour-plus stroll benefited from the unexpected late colors. Graceland is a queen among cemeteries for its beauty, so any season will offer a display worthy of that status. Still, fall is special.

As an arboretum, Graceland has over 2,000 trees and scores of species.

“In Chicago, as well as other major cities in America and Europe, cemeteries predated city parks as sites for pastoral strolls and quiet contemplation,” notes Chicago Garden: The Early History. “Thomas B. Bryan, a wealthy Chicago businessman and avid horticulturist, was the major force behind the creation of Graceland in 1860. Along with other investors [he] formed the Graceland Cemetery Company.

“Graceland’s location was ideal: readily accessible from Green Bay Road (now Clark Street) and later the Chicago and Evanston Railroad, yet far enough removed from the city to avoid health and sanitation issues. The company chose the high ridge area along what is now Clark Street, which was once an old Indian trail… In the sandy soil here, plants thrive better than in Chicago’s typical clay soil.”

Water views. The map calls it Lake Willowmere.

An ivy-covered stone.

That can’t be an accident of nature, since the standard of lawn care is clearly pretty high at Graceland. Could be the Simons wanted it that way. Or still do. Anyway, the leaves are changing.

Coyote, looks like.

I didn’t get very close, but close enough, and he seemed nonchalant about being around humans. He just wandered on by. Urban Coyote: there’s an animation project in that for someone.

Color is good, of course. So is monochrome.

In our time and place, cemetery tourism isn’t much practiced. At many cemeteries, I’m the only living person around, except maybe for grounds keepers. Graceland stood out from most in that way. I saw maybe two dozen or so other visitors, including bike riders, dog walkers and a handful doing what I was doing: wandering the 121-acre grounds, taking it in.

Meacham Grove Forest Preserve & The Temporary Tunnel of Gold

Posted on November 6, 2024 by admin

Though it’s fairly close, we hadn’t been to the Meacham Grove Forest Preserve in a few years, so on the last Saturday in October, I suggested a walk. Bright, warm and little wind: a good day for it.

The path around Maple Lake – called that on maps, anyway – takes you about halfway before you come to another path: a section of the North Central DuPage Regional Trail. We headed west on that trail.

At first the trail passes Spring Brook and Meacham Marsh. The Meacham brothers were earlier settlers in this part of DuPage County and the village of Bloomington was once known as Meacham’s Grove, as a waystation on the Chicago-Galena Stagecoach Trail.

At that moment in October, the trail winds into a tunnel of gold. That’s what I’m calling it anyway, mostly formed by a canopy of maple leaves. Canada has no monopoly on them, even if they put it on their flag.

Roselle Road divides the preserve. The other section is accessible by footbridge over the road.

All these years in the northwest suburbs, and we’d never ventured across the bridge. In the western section of the preserve, the North Central DuPage Regional Trail connects to a half-mile loop, Savanna Trail. Not quite a tunnel of gold, but not too shabby in its foliage.

There’s a metaphor in those leaves somewhere: a brief blaze of glory near the end.

Or maybe leaves are leaves are leaves.

Bruce Peninsula National Park: The Sand

Posted on October 17, 2024 by admin

Clambering around on rocks, even the kind that don’t require any technical skills, takes energy, so lunch was the next order of business after our hike along the shore of Georgian Bay last Wednesday. We spotted a food truck outside the park, on Ontario 6, called the Hungry Hiker. That seemed fitting.

It had a Bigfoot theme. That seemed odd.

During our travels in the U.S. West, especially Montana-Idaho-Washington state, we noticed many roadside Bigfoot depictions, including this one in metro Seattle, in front of a place in Edmonds where we had lunch one day.

The Hungry Hiker Bigfoot was the only one we saw in Canada. Whimsy on the part of the owner, maybe, which also included some of the menu items, such as the Sweaty Yeti, a chicken sandwich with a sweet glaze. We ordered one, but not The Big Foot, which was a foot-long hot dog. Sasquatch theme or not, the Hungry Hiker’s food was satisfying.

Next stop: Singing Sands Beach at Bruce Peninsula NP. The park includes more than one section, with the beach on the other side of the peninsula, facing Lake Huron proper.

Nice. A big, almost empty beach. In mid-summer, it’s probably overrun. In October, there were only a few people and a frolicking dog.

Behind the beach, a fen.

I don’t know a fen from a bog or a marsh, even though I’ve seen a fen, but that’s what the sign said. It also informed us that resident in the area is the Massasauga rattlesnake (Sistrurus catenatus), “Ontario’s only venomous snake.”

I didn’t know Ontario had any venomous snakes either, much less a rattler. We were further assured that they are small (not a good thing) and shy (better), so they are likely to avoid you. Also, they are endangered, so gardeners in, say, suburban Toronto aren’t at much risk. Canada ≠ Australia, despite some historic similarities. As we tromped along, none were to be heard.

A short trail wandered into the trees near the beach, past a couple of creeks meeting Lake Huron.

The trail was a loop, returning by way of grasslands and more beach, which was a little rocky at that point.

We still had some afternoon left – a warmish day in October isn’t to be wasted – so we went to the BPNP visitor center, back on the Georgian Bay side, to climb the observation tower.

Nice views, though not as much fall color as we’d expected. I could feel the tower shake just a little in the wind, which wasn’t a pleasant sensation. I’m still up for climbing towers for the vistas, but find myself a bit more unnerved by the experience than I used to be.

We still weren’t quite done. We drove the short way to Big Tub Harbour, which isn’t part of the national park, but rather part of the town of Tobermory.

The thing to see there is the lighthouse.

Still a working light, so no climbing, unlike others. Not as storied as the Lighthouse of Alexandria or even the Eddystone Light, but good enough on a windy afternoon in Ontario.

Pinery & Sauble Falls Provincial Parks

Posted on October 15, 2024 by admin

One provincial park on the way north last Tuesday, one more on the way south a two days later: Pinery and Sauble Falls, respectively.

Pinery Provincial Park hugs the shore of Lake Huron far south of the Bruce Peninsula and includes wooded areas with trails and a wide beach. Pinery PP

Park literature says the woodlands are an oak savanna, the largest remaining patch in Ontario. Still mostly green when we passed thorough, with touches of fall.

The woodland trails pass by the Old Ausable Channel. Still and punctuated by lily pads and green algae.

The Ausable River once ran here, and then on into Lake Huron, but irrigation and other civil engineering projects, back when this part of Canada was being developed for agriculture, changed the course of the river, isolating this stretch. As its recreational value became apparent by the time the park was created in the 1950s, further engineering adjustments were made to ensure it doesn’t dry up all together.

The beach was easy to reach and nearly (but not quite) empty. That’s October for you, but if you asked me, that’s a good time to visit a beach.

Ah.

Soon we notice ladybugs everywhere on the beach.

As insect hordes go, that’s a pretty agreeable one. Still, I’ve been on a lot of beaches and never encountered that. Though not cold, it wasn’t exactly warm, and the bugs barely moved, preferring to cluster together. Later, at the visitor center, I mentioned the bug horde (not using that word) to one of the workers, who had never heard of such a thing either. So maybe it’s just a freak at Pinery, not the beginning of a movement of coccinellidae famed among entomologists, or something.

Much further north, in fact at the southern edge of the Bruce Peninsula, is Sauble Falls Provincial Park.

It wasn’t busy, mostly occupied by a few retiree fishermen looking for a catch in the Sauble River below the falls. The trails in the park are short, mostly providing views of the low falls.

Once upon a time, the river supported a lumber mill, and a small town grew around it. Only small traces of any of that remain, such as part of a concrete raceway.

I expected a little more color on the Bruce Peninsula, but we were a little ahead of peak. At Sauble Falls, peak was closer.

You’d think that fall colors would get old. We see it every year. But it never does.

Craters of the Moon National Monument

Posted on October 3, 2024 by admin

Among the western states, Idaho’s got one of the more interesting shapes, the result of decades of negotiations, schemes and the arcane doings of Congress in the 19th century, which are summarized nicely in an article in Idaho magazine, though it could use a few more maps. Not every is happy with the current Oregon-Idaho border, though I’m not holding my breath waiting for a change.

Idaho’s flag is less interesting; another state seal.

At least the seal has some Latin: Esto perpetua, let it be forever; it is forever. I assume that’s a wish for the existence of Idaho, or Idaho’s status as a state, not the seal or flag itself. New state flag designs for Idaho are kicking around on the likes of Reddit, but nothing official seems to be in the works yet. Pocatello has had a new flag since 2017, however, and it did need one.

We headed east from Boise on September 3. The easy way is on I-84. We drove to Mountain Home and then turned off on US 20, as previously mentioned. Go that way and you’ll eventually come to Craters of the Moon National Monument and Preserve. It’s a big blob on the map (753,000 acres) that has long intrigued me.

The monument was originally created in 1924 by President Coolidge partly due to the publicizing efforts of an interesting Idahoan, Bob Limbert, who explored the area, previously ignored as a wasteland, and wrote about it. President Clinton expanded Craters of the Moon greatly in 2000 and I’ve read that the Idaho legislature has asked Congress to make it a national park.

I’d be against it. Not that anyone has asked me, but it’s time to stop national park bloat. Sixty-three is more than enough. Sixty is fine, for that matter, a nice round number with ancient resonance. There’s nothing wrong with a place being a national monument. It’s an honorable old designation, the brainchild that most conservation-minded president, TR. I need to visit more of them myself: only 21 out of 134 so far, counting Craters of the Moon and Devils Tower.

The part of Craters of the Moon accessible to casual tourists is only a sliver, but quite a sliver. One trail leads over the aftermath of ancient lava flows, and a road leads to cones.

The terrain just cries out for a monochromatic treatment.

The day was warm enough to wear a hat and carry water, but not blazing hot. A scattering of other tourists were around, but nothing like the more popular trails of the national parks.

The place looks barren, but it isn’t so, since life adapts.

Except where it doesn’t. Yet.

We decided not to climb the enormous black cone, but if you look carefully, you can see a fellow who did. Note the trail on one of the smaller cones. That we did climb, reaching a view of the maw of the cone, though it has a grate blocking the way, to limit the erosive effect of a constant trickle of people clambering down.

More monochrome.

“The craters of Craters of the Moon… are definitely of volcanic origin,” explains the NPS paper guide, noting also that the name dates from long before anyone knew what the actual craters of the Moon looked like, at least up close. I don’t think any of the Apollo astronauts were reminded of Idaho. No matter, the name’s got some panache.

“But where is the volcano? These vast volumes of lava issued not from one volcano but from a series of deep fissures – known collectively as the Great Rift – that crosses the Snake River Plain. Beginning 15,000 years ago, lava welled up from the Great Rift to produce this vast ocean of rock. The most recent eruption occurred a mere 2,000 years ago, and geologists believe that future events are likely.”

Not to be confused with the Great Rift Valley, over in East Africa. The Digital Atlas of Idaho calls it the Great Rift system, “a series of north-northwest trending fractures… The total rift system is 62 miles long and may be the longest known rift zone in the conterminous United States.”

In other places, life has returned more robustly. There’s an easy trail through that as well.

A difficult place for trees, looks like.

We spent longer than planned at Craters of the Moon, which meant that we didn’t get to Victor, Idaho, our next destination, until well after dark. No big deal, it was worth it, and the nighttime winding road was a smaller version of the twisty drive near Sheridan, Wyo., so not bad either.

The International Test Rose Garden

Posted on September 30, 2024 by admin

I was expecting to see roses at the International Test Rose Garden in Washington Park in Portland. I wasn’t expecting a bronze Royal Rosarian.

Mainly because I’d never heard of the Royal Rosarians. Reading a bit about them – including on a plaque near the statue – I found that they’re one of those local civic organizations composed of prominent businessmen who dress up for events. Something like the Texas Cavaliers in San Antonio, whose head cheese King Antonio passed out aluminum tokens each year to schoolchildren once upon a time, including me.

“The Royal Rosarians are the official greeters and goodwill Ambassadors for the City of Portland promoting the best interests of the City of Portland and the Portland Rose Festival,” the org’s web site says.

“Royal Rosarians welcome visiting dignitaries from around the world, host hundreds of out-of-town visitors, march in parades throughout the region, and perform ceremonial rose plantings in honor of worthy individuals both in Portland and during Rosarian ambassadorial trips to distant cities throughout the world. Organized in 1912, the Royal Rosarians are a non-profit, civic organization.”

In hilly Washington Park, which occupies more than 450 acres, the seven-acre International Test Rose Garden is directly downhill from the Portland Japanese Garden and, unlike that garden, free to visit. Some 10,000+ rose bushes grow there, representing 650+ varieties. If I hadn’t visited the Tyler Rose Garden earlier this year, I would have been flabbergasted by the profusion. Still, the garden is impressive.

The fact that it is a test garden means that rose growers far and wide send their cultivars for evaluation.

“Test beds are planted with new varieties evaluated on several characteristics, including disease resistance, bloom form, color and fragrance,” says the Spokesman-Review. “ A Gold Medal Garden features previous years’ best selections, and the Shakespeare Garden features roses named after characters in the bard’s works.”

The idea of a test garden in Portland goes back to World War I, when it was seen as a way to preserve cultivars that might otherwise be lost because of the fighting. Portland was already known for its roses by the early 20th century, as illustrated in this article in Oregon Live.

The thing to do at the International Test Garden is wander around, taking in the varieties.

Or –

Create rose-themed art.

Portland Japanese Garden

Posted on September 29, 2024 by admin

The other day I found a web site that promised to provide captions for photos. A very specific set of photos. It said:

Looking for the perfect captions for your photos of Japanese gardens? A well-crafted caption can help increase engagement on your Instagram posts and capture the serene beauty of these stunning landscapes.

We understand that coming up with the right words can be challenging, but don’t worry! We’ve got you covered with a wide variety of caption templates for Japanese garden photos.

Looks like what they’re selling is an AI service that will spit out captions for your pictures. Any kind of pictures. Japanese gardens is just one example. The site had a few captions for Instagram posted images on hand, pre-written, you might say. Such as:

Serenity in every step.

Restoring my inner balance amidst the lush greens.

In awe of the perfect blend of nature and art.

Awfully high-minded sentiments there. I enjoyed our visit to Portland Japanese Garden a lot, Yuriko even more, praising its authentic details and feeling.

But serenity in every step overstates things, and not just because I’d been warned about the possibility of wanker criminals smashing one of my car windows on the Washington Park road where we parked it, a problem we did not need 2,000 miles from home.

In the end, nothing happened, and I managed to keep the idea at the back of my mind most of the time during the visit, so I had serenity in a few steps. Every step is to expect too much, even in a perfectly carefree mood. Curiosity was in other steps, and also admiration, wonder, and oops, don’t want to trip. An entirely normal mix of feelings during a visit to a place with a such special resonance.

Water features.

Paths to follow. Or not. But we did.

Walled in are kare-sansui, and I won’t pretend I didn’t have to look that up. A Zen garden, in other words. Two of them, actually. One called the Sand and Stone Garden.

The other, larger, is adjacent to the Pavilion Gallery. The Flat Garden, it’s called.

I don’t know about restoring my “inner” balance. As I get older, I’m glad to still have the regular old sense of balance. As for the “perfect balance of nature and art,” that’s an advertising-quality meaningless statement. Bravo, AI.

A Lot of Flowers

Posted on July 25, 2024 by admin

Compared with the July 15 storm, this week’s storm, which blew through on Tuesday, was a gentleman. Some rain and enough lightning and thunder to qualify as a thunderstorm, but the sort that comes in distant cloud-to-cloud flashes and low rumbles off in the direction of somewhere else.

Summertime flora isn’t just for parks. Sometimes a luxuriation of flowers is found in unexpected places. Such as this patch.

Back up a little for context.

How does the verse go? Not even Solomon in all his splendor parked in a lot like this one?

Volkening Lake Summer Flora

Posted on July 24, 2024 by admin

In summer, the north rim of Volkening Lake is all a-bloom.

Contrast to December, when the color was provided by electric lights.

Other parts of the park sport various flowers of various hues as well.

The lake is really more of a pond, and according to the Schaumburg Park District, the area is called the Fred W. Volkening Recreation Area. But all I’ve ever heard is Volkening Lake.

Fred Volkening was a Schaumburg old-timer (d. 1993) who used to farm the surrounding land. I’m glad the lake and rec area has his name, rather than that of an otherwise forgettable park district functionary. Still, a park by an other name would bloom as lush, I figure.

Spring Valley Summer ’24

Posted on July 23, 2024 by admin

A new garden has been installed at Spring Valley, which we visited over the weekend, during a run of flawless summer days. We’ve been in every season.

It’s a lush garden.

Even better, we were all able to get out to take a look.

The black-eyed Susans have emerged.

As well as – sunflowers?

We weren’t sure, but they do have a tall presence and yellow expansiveness, like sunflowers.

Been There, Seen That

By Dees Stribling

Category Archives: Flora